


Working On It

by MisMiz (Jaaaaack51)



Category: Arrested Development, Labyrinth (1986), Multi-Fandom, Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Random & Short, Snippets, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 23:45:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13558110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaaaaack51/pseuds/MisMiz
Summary: Little bits and pieces of writing based on prompts from a book I got for Christmas one year.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I included the prompt at the beginning of each little snippet. They are all about what you would expect.

_Your brother confides in you. You used to be his imaginary friend, he says, the one he wished were real. His wish came true._

**Arrested Development (Michael Bluth, Gob)**

“Michael, Michael, Michael. Dear sweet Michael.” 

“I’m still not going to wear that sparkly bikini and let you saw me in half no matter how many times you say my name.”

“You have eyes but you do not see. It’s not a bikini. It’s bootie shorts and a halter top.”

“And I have a mouth and it’s saying I’m still not wearing it.”

“Fine. Be a funsucker. A sucker of fun. We can get you something without sparkles to wear.”

“I’m not wearing anything.”

“Oooh…who knew you’d grow up to be so kinky. Public nudity…I like it.”

“There’s no public nudity. And I’m not kinky. I’m just not willing to let you saw me in half no matter what I’m wearing!”

“That’s disappointing on so many levels. And after all I’ve done for you.”

“I think you have that backward.”

“I gave you life, Michael. Life.”

“Do you even hear yourself? Because much as it pains me to say it, Mom is the one who actually gave birth to me. Not you.”

“Did I say birth? No I did not. I said Life. Now who’s the one with the hearing problem?”

“My hearing is fine. I’m just not hearing anything that makes any sense.”

“Didn’t I ever tell you? You started out as my imaginary sibling, Mikey. Then one day I wished you were real so Mom would believe me when I told her that you broke her favorite vase. The one she used to hide her vodka in when we had unexpected company. Then poof…there you were.”

“Poof? You know what…no. Never mind. Mom didn’t hide her vodka in a vase. She hid it in the umbrella stand.”

“That was only after you broke the vase.”

“There was no vase!”

“Then why did Mom dock your allowance for a month that summer?”

“I thought that was just so she could go on a vodka bender.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure that’s what she actually did with the money, yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“So you’ll…”

“No. Still not wearing the bikini. But you know, the most disturbing thing about this conversation isn’t sparkly bikinis or the fact that you are almost definitely a pathological liar. It’s that I almost believe you.”


	2. Chapter 2

_You break into the lab of a rival scientist. All you plan to do is slip the rats some chocolate chip cookies._

**Bruce Wayne, Robin, (Implied Batman/Superman)**

“Best laid plans of mice and men. Looks more like bats and rats to me.” Bruce Wayne sighed as he gazed glumly at the TV screen showing giant rats overruning the streets of downtown Metropolis.

“You shoud know better than to mess around with something in Lex Luthor’s lab.” Robin pointed out, sliding his last throwing star onto his utility belt.

“But I was only there to feed his rats chocolate chip cookies! How was I supposed to know the sugar would have that kind of effect on them? Ordinary rats would just gain weight like everyone else.” Bruce protested sullenly, giving his own utility belt a final, rather violent, tug.

“Did you really think that anything in Luthor’s lab would be ordinary?” Robin rolled his eyes, the words “you dumbass” unspoken but very very clear.

“Well, if you’d just gone along with my original plan…” Bruce began.

“Oh no. I am not getting in the middle of that superhero sandwich.” Robin interrupted firmly. “If you want to make Superman jealous you’ll have to find another patsy.”

“Patsy? Really? Have you been reading Alfred’s novels again?” Now it was Bruce’s turn to roll his eyes as they made their way over to the Batmobile.

“You don’t get to criticize my life choices Mr. “I will distract Lex Luthor from flirting with Superman by breaking into his lab and feeding his rats chocolate chip cokies so that they all mutate into giant slavering monsters running free through downtown Metropolis”. Robin flung himself into the Batmobile with a huff. He’d really been looking forward to an evening of Netflix and Chill with Barbara. 

“Ok. So it sounds bad when you say it like that.” Bruce admitted. “Even though they weren’t supposed to slaver. They were just supposed to have suspicious weight gain and throw off his experiment enough to distract him.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone in a five state radius is distracted right now. Congratulations.”

“Hey. My plan still worked. I bet you 49% of the shares in Wayne Enterprises that Lex is much too distracted with trying to find this mysterious intruder to pay any attention to Superman right now.” Bruce settled himself into the Batmobile and gunned the engine, racing towards Metropolis. He had rats to wrangle and a Superman to seduce.

Robin just sighed. Giant rats were a piece of cake compared to a lovesick Batman.


	3. Chapter 3

_You’e allergic to peanuts. But if you don’t eat them, you’re going to starve to death._

**Torchwood (Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones)**

_Pre-Peanut_

He was allergic to peanuts. Deathly allergic. This was fact number one. 

He wa stranded in a place where his only options were to eat his way through the previous inhabitant’s frankly scary store of peanuts or slowly starve to death. This was fact number two. 

There was no fact number three. Or at least none that were relevant to his situation. It all came down to peanuts in the end. That was what his life apparently amounted to here. The Universe was such a bitch. Where was a Doctor when you needed one?

So eat peanuts and die or don’t eat peanuts and die. He had already been without food for weeks. He could feel his body slowly eating itself up from the inside out. He could wait a few more days or weeks getting weaker and weaker or he could end his current suffering in a mere matter of minutes.

He contemplated his choices for what felt like a suitable amount of time and then, with a slight shrug, he reached for a handful of roasted peanuts. He was hungry dammit.

He had just swallowed the last bite of peanuts, forcing them down his rapidlly swelling throat, when a sudden noise made him glance up. His vision was blurry and his chest was constricting more tightly with every passing second. He didn’t have much longer. He was all too familiar with this feeling. He thought he saw the cell door vibrating but that could have just been his head swimming. The noise continued, but it had no meaning to him. 

He had just closed his eyes when the noise suddenly resolved itself into the sound of familiar voices shouting his name, telling him to hold on. He shook his head. His throat was too swollen to speak. 

Rescue might have been imminent but Death got there first, and with a final gasp, he slumped to the floor just as the door to his cell burst open and his team surged in still shouting his name.

_Post-Peanut_

He came back to consciousness, and life, what could have been minutes or hours, or even days, later. He had no sense of time just yet. He found he was unable to move or open his eyes, but he could still hear his name. Now it was being said by only one voice, however. A voice he would recognize anywhere.

“Open your eyes, Jack. No sleeping on the job, boss or not.” Gentle fingers ran along his jaw and up through his hair, giving lie to the peremptory words and tone.

“Please, Jack.” The voice was soft this time. Coaxing him. He felt lips brush his forehead.

He tried to open his eyes and respond with a saucy wink but his body wasn’t ready for that quite yet.

“Please. Just…please wake up.”

He could feel his heatbeat steady and grow stronger. That voice aways had that effect on him. Provided an anchor for him. 

“Ok, Jack. Open your eyes, dammit. I refuse to indulge any Sleeping Beauty fantasies you might harbor.”

Jack Harkness opened his eyes to find himself on a makeshift bed in an unfamiliar room with Ianto Jones seated on a rickety chair next to him. Ianto had his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“But Ianto, Sleeping Beauty is a classic.”

“No, Jack.”

“But…”

“No.”

“Ok. Fine. If you don’t want to be my Prince Charming, at least admit that you’re happy to see me. And say it in Welsh. You know how I love those beautiful Welsh vowels.”

“Snow White had Prince Charming not Sleeping Beauty.” Ianto’s scowl deepened as Jack laughed.

“So pedantic. You remind me of an Earth Lit teacher I had as a kid.” Jack winked. “I think you might give me some new fantasies if you’re not careful.”

Ianto sighed. “I am happy to see you.” He brushed his fingertips lightly acros Jack’s hand, gaze fixed firmly downward. “But I think you know that. Sir.”

“Yeah.” Jack replied softly, wrapping his fingers around Ianto’s wrist and holding on tightly. “I know.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Write a story in which both lovers, for very good reasons, can’t stand to be seen in public with each other._

**Labyrinth (Jareth/Sarah)**

He watches her silently from his perch in the highest branches as she walks slowly down the street, a small smile on her face. He wonders what she is thinking. He knows it is not thoughts of him that make her smile like that. The smiles he evokes are always tinged with sadness, or melancholy. He could pretend that this does not make him happy, but that would be a lie. And while he has no compunction about lying to others, he does not lie to himself. He doesn’t care if she is happy or unhappy. He only cares that she thinks of him. And she does think of him. And dreams of him. But she will not take it that one step further. She will not let him take those dreams and shape them into reality. Or what passes for reality in his realm. Even he struggles to remember the difference at times. 

Once she is out of sight, he spreads his wings and glides silently away. It is only minutes later that he flies silently into the open window of his palace. The air shimmers around him and in place of the snowy owl there is now a tall, handsome man in black pants and a white shirt. Jareth, the Goblin King. 

It has been ten years since he met her and five years since he sought her out on a whim, wondering what had become of the human girl who escaped his kingdom. The one who had defied him. And amused him. The one who had grown up to be beautiful and kind and still with that touch of human magic that first allowed her to call him to her world ten years ago. Jareth loves her. Jareth hates that he loves her. But he still comes to her in her dreams even knowing that she will never stand beside him and publicly allow him to proclaim her his Queen outside of those dreams. She loves him but she fears what she would become in his realm and she is right to fear it. 

And what does The Goblin King fear? He is very careful to let everyone believe that the answer to this is “Nothing”. The true answer, however, is that he fears what he would become in her world. He fears the look in her eyes should she see him as he truly is. So he will not go to her and walk with her in the daylight through the human world and she will not come to him and walk in the twilight with him through the Goblin World. 

He is a star crossed lover in a world without any stars. She is a Queen without a realm. They are both strangers and yet lovers in the light of the rising sun, as the last remnants of their dream world linger a few precious moments more before vanishing once again.

The Goblins whisper and wonder about their King. They whisper that he has been cursed. They wonder who will be their next King should he succumb to whatever curse has caused the pain they catch glimpses of on his face. He lets them whisper and wonder. Better they think he is cursed than to think that he loves. Although he often thinks love is a curse so maybe his goblins have the right of it after all. 

Humans whisper and wonder as well. They whisper their fancies to one another in the form of stories they tell. Sometimes in their stories, love triumphs, and there is happily ever after for all. Sometimes there is not. It varies with the teller and the tale.

Jareth does not know how his story will end. The future is a mystery even to the Goblin King. And if he spends the occasional hour dwelling on the possibility of it ending with the words “Happily Ever After” it is a truth known only to him.


End file.
